


All is Fair in Games and War

by PurrtlePuff



Series: The BROARMY Police Force AU [1]
Category: Youtube RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Police, Arin Hanson - Freeform, Barry Kramer - Freeform, Featuring, Gen, I may write more for this universe idk, I researched I swear, Marzia Bisognin - Freeform, Ross O'Donovan - Freeform, and, felix kjellberg - Freeform, it's pretty much my excuse to make a bunch of characters special agents in my own little world, lots of banter, possible gun mistakes, well kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-25
Updated: 2016-01-25
Packaged: 2018-05-16 03:10:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5811403
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PurrtlePuff/pseuds/PurrtlePuff
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Broad Range Operative and Alternative Response Militia of Youtown is a special police force tasked with a bunch of jobs police are too busy to handle. Filled with multiple teams of people who are very good at faking they know what they're doing, several teams try their hardest to keep the streets clean, the city safe, and the copier from getting jammed.</p><p>Enter Mark, Jack, Bob, and Wade, a team of four guys who just want to be number one on Agar.io. Hopefully this loser of an illegal gun operation will come quietly so they can fix that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All is Fair in Games and War

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome lovelies! This is my first fic up on Ao3, and I'm a tad bit nervous. I've had this idea floating around in my head for quite some time, and I have thought of a few other scenarios to stick multiple Youtubers into this crazy little AU I've designed. Perhaps if people like it, I'll post more. Heck, if just one person likes it, I'll probably write the whole AU. 
> 
> This has only been edited by me, so any mistakes are my own. Feel free to point them out. I'll try to avoid them in the future. Comments, criticism, and concerns are welcome in the comments section!

“Come on, bros. You’re supposed to be working on case files not playing fucking Agar.io on the internet.” 

Four sets of eyes looked up at a very annoyed Felix Kjellberg.  Mark looked down at his screen again and cursed. 

“I almost made it to number 1,” he grumbled.

 Felix tapped the doorway with his finger. “You could be number one here too if you’d all get working.”

 Jack smirked. “Hey, we told you we were cool being Team D.”

 “For Team Dicks,” Mark added. The four members of Team D snickered, while Felix failed to hide his smile.

 “Marzia has your next case ready,” Felix spoke. “When you’re done being assholes, swing by and talk to her.”

 “Will do,” Wade said and gave a salute. Felix shook his head and walked out of the room.

 “Seriously guys,” Bob said as he took a sip of his coffee.  “We really should get going on that new case.”

 “Right after I beat Obama.” Mark cracked his knuckles. “He’s been number one for too long.”

 

* * *

 

“What’s the score?” Wade asked as he took a seat beside Bob.  He passed Bob the popcorn, which the latter took a considerable handful of.  Bob pulled the earbud closest to Wade out of his ear.

“1-3 Blue team. Though Orange has been making some good shots,” Bob replied.  He pulled out his laptop and opened a privatized instant messenger.  Wade turned his attention back to the ameture soccer game below them. Mark and Jack posed as players.  They were closing in on an illegal gun salesman, and the two of them were going to set up a fake meeting to bust them.

“I leave for ten minutes, and Blue scores two more times? I knew Mark and Jack needed my support.”

Bob chuckled as he replied to the message on his screen.  Wade leaned over his shoulder.

> **3:16 pm <CutiePie>** Any luck on a rendezvous point?
> 
> **3:16 pm <muyskerm> **No word from Markiplier or Jacksepticeye yet. Will keep you posted.
> 
> **3:17 pm <CutiePie>** Good. Keep us in the loop.

Wade nodded his head and hummed. “So you-”

Bob burst into a fit of giggles as one of his earbuds cursed loudly.  Wade creased his brow before Bob handed him the device.

“Son of a left hairy nipple!”

“You were wide open!”

“I didn’t expect the other guy to just jump out of the blue like that. Wade, that was not a pun!”

“He’s probably sassed you already, because you suck.”

“Your mom sucks.”

Bob and Wade both chuckled. They could hear their teammates, but Mark and Jack couldn’t hear them.

Bob lowered his voice as he spoke to Wade. “The two of them are setting up a meeting with Phillips during the handshake. Keep a close eye on him. He’s the one with the red man bun and scruffy beard.”

Wade nodded. “Did he make any moves toward Jack and Mark yet?”

“Not that I’ve seen.  Nothing out of the ordinary anyway.”

The horn to end the game rang out, and the other side of the stadium erupted into cheers.

“Good thing they’re not pro soccer players,” Wade commented, earning a smile from Bob.  The teams met in the center to shake hands.  Wade pulled out his binoculars and watched the man in question.

Nicolas Phillips, a rather tall man in his late 30s, walked up to Mark.  Wade held his breath as he watched the two converse.  Jack shadowed Mark.  The microphone picked up their brief conversation.

“Tonight at 5 pm. 240 West Pine Road.  Bring your checkbook.”

“See you then.”

Bob wrote the information down on his computer and sent it to Marzia. He closed his laptop and put it into his backpack.

Wade stood up next to him. “Are we on our own?”

“For now. Marzia said she’d send back up if we needed it.”

“Oh yes. Just a gun bust. You know, with a bunch of people who are probably really good at shooting other people.”

“That’s why we have Jack.” Bob adjusted his glasses as he watched Mark and Jack head toward the Orange team’s locker room.

 

* * *

 

Mark pulled down the back of his shirt and tucked it into his belt.  He felt the small of his back to make sure his pistol wasn’t visible. Of course, his coat would cover it. Extra precautions never hurt. He adjusted his fake mustache and caught Jack watching him in his reflection.

“Like what you see, Jackaboy?”

“I’ve seen tastier things in a dumpster.”

“You eat from a dumpster?”

“Usually when I’m visiting you, ya smelly.”

Jack pulled at the collar of his shirt and adjusted his top button. Just because he had to look nice didn’t mean he had to choke himself. Mark looked over his shoulder and took in a deep breath.

“You got a weapon?”

“Of course.” He rolled up his sleeve to reveal a concealed combat knife.

“You’re seriously bringing a knife to a gunfight?”

“Well I can’t exactly get my rifle up there, now can I?”

Mark smirked and shook his head. The two walked out of the locker room and got into the back of the SUV parked outside. Bob turned around in the passenger’s side and eyed the two of them.

“Were to, Miss Daisy?”

“Just shut up and drive,” Mark responded and kicked the back of Bob’s chair. Wade smirked as he pulled the car out of the parking spot. 

Bob typed on his laptop. “Both your suits are bugged. Just like the soccer game, we can hear you, but you won’t be able to hear us. Once you two reveal yourselves to Phillips, we’ll be waiting outside for the arrest.  If he comes quietly, this should be over quick.”

“Do they ever come quietly?” Jack murmured and pulled at his collar again.

“No, but it’s always a nice thought,” Wade responded.

Mark snorted. “The day they come quietly is the day I die my hair pink.”

The drive lasted about a half an hour. Wade parked on the opposite side of the street and turned off the car. “You guys ready?”

“Of course. I’m not a big bubble blowing baby,” Mark nodded his head before exiting the car. Jack got out of his side and followed suit.  Bob pulled up his laptop and disconnected his earphones from the jack so he and Wade could listen.

“You got your ID?” Jack asked.

“Yep.” Mark flashed the fake ID he brought on all his busts (a man with a rather ridiculous mustache named Wilford Warfstache) and put it back in his pocket. Jack pulled his cap down closer to his eyes and shoved his hands in his pockets. If they played their cards right, Mark would do all the talking, and he wouldn’t need an ID.

At least, that’s how normal gun busts went.

Nicolas Phillips slipped by their radar quite a few times. Every time a team from the _Broad Range Operative and Alternative Response Militia of Youtown_ (or affectionately nicknamed “The Bro Army”) tried to peg him, the charges wouldn’t stick. Mark and Jack knew they’d have to play a very witty game of cat and mouse or this would be worse than a lost hairy bet.

Mark climbed up the patio stairs first and knocked on the front door. The peephole wood shifted, and green eyes stared back at them.

“ID please?”

Mark flashed his ID through the door, and the man shut the peephole. He unlocked the door and ushered Jack and Mark through.

“Wilford,” a jolly voice called from the other room. The man stepped through a sheeted doorway and held out his hand. “It’s a pleasure to see you again.”

“You too, Nicky,” Mark put on his famous accent and shook the man’s hand vigorously. “You say you have a nice rack- of guns that is.”

“Indeed I do.” Nicolas eyed Jack and hummed. “Who’s the stiff?”

Mark laughed. “Oh, don’t mind him. He gets antsy if I leave him in the car. Doesn’t like to be too far away from his daddy, if you know what I mean.”

Jack’s cheeks heated up as he hid his eyes under the brim of his hat.  Nicolas burst out laughing and patted Mark hard between the shoulderblades.

“Such a sense of humor!  Come, we’ll go check out the selection, yeah?”  

The three men walked through the sheeted doorway and into a room lit by a flickering fluorescent light bulb.  Mark and Jack stood at one end of the steel table as Nicolas presented one firearm after the other.

“So, this is your collection?” Mark ran his fingers over one of the barrels.

“All of them are right here and ready for the taking,” Nicolas responded, “For the right price.”

“Oh of course,” Mark played with his mustache a bit. “So I guess I set the price?”

“Depends on the weapon.”

Mark eyed a few over, pretending to take interest in the one on the end, a Daewoo K3, and named his price. Of course, Nicolas objected, which sparked a haggling war between the two of them. Jack lifted up his sleeve and checked the time. Twenty minutes past 5; their backup should be waiting.  Jack looked over at Mark and nodded his head.

“So, Mr. Phillips, I think we have a deal.”

Nicolas grinned and rubbed his hands together. “Good. I take cash only, as you know.”

“Right, right,” Mark reached into his coat pocket and felt around a bit. “Now I know I have my wallet in here somewhere.”  He pulled his police badge out of his pocket and flashed it.

The color drained from Nicolas's face. Mark made a mock surprised face.

“Now how did that get in there?” Mark’s hand reached under the back of his coat.  He spoke in his normal voice, “Don’t suppose you’ll come quietly now, huh?”

“You’re fucking cops?” Nicolas questioned.

Mark clicked his tongue. “They’re always so surprised.”

“Well you are short for a cop.”

“Look who’s talking, you dickish leprechaun.”

“It’s a bust!” Nicolas called out as he ran out the back door. Mark flipped the table towards them and jumped over it. Jack followed suit as an array of bullets shot toward them.

“Still think that knife was a good idea?” Mark yelled over the gunfire.

Jack pulled the blade out from under his sleeve.  He lined up his victim and threw it.  The blade sliced through their shoulder, and they went down with a groan.

Jack smirked as he ducked back behind the table. “I’d say it was rather effective.”  The gunfire slowed, but three more still shot at them.

“Good thing this wasn’t made of wood, or we’d be Swiss cheese right now,” Mark commented as he tossed Jack the pistol from his back. Jack checked to make sure the safety was off before taking in a deep breath.

“I knew you’d be too chicken to take a shot at them,” Jack replied.  He peered out behind the table and eyed up his target before ducking back down.

“Don’t fuck up.”

“Thanks. I feel the confidence just oozing off of you.” Jack lined up his shot and nailed a man right above the shoulder. He took a moment to reload behind the table before shooting the other goon in the same spot.

“Did you keep an eye on Nicolas?”

“It was your turn to watch the baddie while I take down motherfuckers.”

Mark swore under his breath as someone shot the table leg next to his head. “Cover me.”

Jack opened his mouth to protest, but Mark already rolled out from behind the table.  He used the back door as a shield as a third man took a shot at him.  He heard another bang, a groan of pain, and Jack muttered something about strikes. Mark peered from behind the door, and Jack flashed him a thumb’s up.

Mark walked through the door and up the flight of stairs next to it. The lights upstairs were out, but the half moon lit up the room.  It looked like an attic. Several boxes lined up against the wall, and a white sheet draped over them. The floorboards creaked under Mark’s weight. He stopped and held his breath.  

Click.

Mark ducked down behind a crate as five shots lodged themselves in the box.  He cursed and listened to Nicolas chuckle.

“Come on, Wilford, I’m waiting,” he taunted. “Or are you too scared to face me.”

Mark grumbled under his breath and reached into the hidden holster under his coat.  Nicolas walked toward the boxes, and Mark clicked the safety off.  He held his breath as Nicolas reloaded his gun and chuckled.

“Come out, come out, wherever you are.”

A loud squeal echoed from outside. Nicolas cursed and looked out the window on the other side of the room.

“This is the police. Come out with your hands up, and we will not open fire.”

Mark smirked as Arin’s voice came over the loudspeaker. If Team G was here, they had a good chance of nailing these guys.  He heard the stairs groan below them, and Nicolas ran over to the door and locked it.

“You’re not getting me, you fucking pigs,” Nicolas growled. He turned to face the barrel of Mark’s Glock.

“You might want to rethink that,” Mark said with a smirk. Nicolas grabbed his own gun and aimed it at Mark.  The two stared at each other, stuck in a rather dark stalemate.

The door handle jiggled, followed by a low curse in an Irish accent.

Nicolas hissed, “Put down your gun.  You’re my ticket out of this place.”

“I’m not sure you want to do that,” Mark responded.  He heard the lock of the door clicking as Jack tried to pick it. “You see, I have a very temperamental Irishman on the other side of the door who wouldn’t hesitate to shoot me. I have several team members who would rather me end up in the hospital than not bag their man. Plus, if you try to take me hostage, I have very good aim and quick reflexes.”

Nicolas kept his gun trained on Mark. “You’re bluffing.”

The door behind Nicolas cracked open.

Mark smirked. “You really want to take that chance?”

“I think my odds are fairly good.”

A hand reached up and pulled down on Nicolas’s arm.  He fired and yelped.  Jack brought up his other hand and wrapped it around Nicolas’s midsection.  Nicolas backed up, stumbled, and pushed Jack backward.

Mark watched the two tumble backwards down the stairs. He ran to the edge of the door and sd the two collapsed at the bottom of the stairs.

“Jack, you alright?” He yelled down. He held his breath and waited for some sort of reply.  Mark hurried down the stairs and heard Jack groan.

“That’s the last time I save your ass,” Jack grumbled.

Mark pulled Nicolas off Jack and pinned the man’s arms behind his back.  Once he was sure Nicolas wasn’t going anywhere, he went over and helped Jack up. Jack hissed and grabbed his left shoulder blade.

“Damn it, I popped my arm out of my socket again.”

“Good thing it was just your arm.”

A light caught Mark’s eye. He looked up as Barry and Ross came into the house with flashlights and guns in hand.  Mark signaled the two of them over.  Ross helped Mark pull Nicolas to his feet as Barry checked over Jack.

“Don’t you two ever think before you act?” Barry clicked his tongue.

“I like to keep things loose,” Jack responded. The four, five if you counted Nicolas, walked out of the house and into the flood lights outside.

 

* * *

 

“Yes! Suck my dick, Obama!” Mark shouted as he brought his arms up over his head.

Wade laughed beside him. “Don’t take that out of context.”

“Shut up, Wade,” Mark responded before giving him a playful shove. “Who’s number one now, huh?  President Markifart, that’s who.”

“Are you two playing that stupid game again?” Bob asked as he leaned in the doorway. “If it wasn’t for Jack having a broken collarbone, Felix would be in busting your asses.”

“True, but now we have two months of nothing but paperwork to do in the meantime,” Wade said. “Hey, wait a minute, I don’t see you filing paperwork.”

Bob took a sip of his coffee. “I got myself out of it.”

“Stupid ex-lawyer,” Mark mumbled as Bob smiled behind his mug. “Go make yourself useful and get us the precious life liquid too.”

“We loves the precious,” Bob imitated Gollum’s voice and slipped into the hallway, leaving Wade and Mark laughing in their office.

**Author's Note:**

> Want sneak peeks and to stalk my work more? Follow me on Tumblr at [neko-puff](neko-puff.tumblr.com) or just stalk me silently. No peer pressure from me. 
> 
> Until next time!


End file.
